City of Fioro, Inner Circle, Outskirts
As night falls, music drifts through the air of Fioro’s open streets, transforming the usual energetic atmosphere of the city into something Uren can’t quite put his finger on.
Something almost… Eerie?
Masked people punctuate the crowd, having started to appear at some turning point unidentified by Uren. Dancing, walking, and laughing, they seem to share no common purpose as they walk to and from buildings, alleys, and street corners.
During his month-long stay in the city, Uren has yet to find an explanation for their presence, and he has never seen so many gathered before. Perhaps he should surf Elysium’s strange version of the internet for an explanation?
As Uren’s gaze drifts through the crowd, something suddenly grabs his attention; a large lotus flower covering most of a three stories high wall, a graffiti so realistically painted Uren double takes before being sure it isn’t actually real.
Strange. Up to today, Fioro has been, by far, the cleanest city he has ever seen.
Passed his initial shock, however, Uren realizes the drawing is much closer than what he would’ve expected from a work of art than mere vandalization.
‘Are you sure we aren’t lost?’
‘Your lack of faith insults me,’ Sara says, smiling over her shoulder as she grabs his hand, pulling softly after herself. ‘We’re almost there, country boy.’
Once more, Uren finds himself wondering about the inner workings of the city, its secrets, and purpose. Though, for once, perhaps he doesn’t have to merely wonder.
‘So… What is this place? I’ve never seen it on TV or online,’ Uren whispers over his still-open link with Sara.
Once more, she glances at him, asking in the same whispering tone, ‘Why are we whispering?’
‘I don’t know?’
She laughs. ‘This place is… Somewhat of a secret? Fioro’s inner space was designed to be a sort of paradise on earth, but not everyone wants the same paradise, you feel me? I wouldn’t go wandering off on my own if I were you.’
Why not?
Uren almost asks the question as it burns through his mind before the strange scene of his surroundings demands his attention again. Or, more specifically, one of the masked people, a woman, dancing bare-toped over a hovering platform in front of a restaurant seems to have noticed them, her eyes following their passing with something Uren can only assume is casual interest.
Sara laughs, her whispering voice sounding slightly hoarse as she speaks, ‘Don’t worry, I’d probably look too.’
Uren’s hand feels warm against hers, his face burning as he averts his gaze from the woman only to find it glued to a group of people on hovering boards flying by, maneuvering dangerously close to walls, holographic signs, and pedestrians who seem oddly calm about missing death by a couple of centimeters.
‘Don’t mind them. They’re our version of street gangs, and they’re allowed to hang around here, though I heard they’re harmless compared to the real thing,’ Sara says, pointing to what, Uren now notices, is only one of the many large drawings decorating the buildings around them, this one depicting the face of a black-haired girl Uren immediately recognizes as Seijuro Aston. ‘If anything, they’re the ones who keep things peaceful around here since the cops aren’t really welcomed. You see the graffiti? They’re the ones who do it.’
Uren finds himself watching Sara as they walk, the curve of her neck, nearly hidden by the collar of her hoodie and hair, and the way their hands connect together, an ever-burning flame on his senses as the low-volume music reverberates against his chest, a new beat each couple of steps, but strangely connected together to form something unique.
Uren wonders if he might be dreaming.
Some of the streets and alleys they walk by seem to descend toward a neon-lit underground, but, thankfully, Sara merely throws the place a glance as they walk by it.
Uren is not sure he’s ready for whatever is down there, or if he’ll ever be.
‘You doing all right?’
Sara suddenly stops, clear blue eyes finding his gaze with an expression of uncertainty for what feels like the first time since Uren met her.
‘I know I sort of dragged you over here, then forced my link on you. I don’t know what I was thinking.’
Leaning over, Uren cautiously pulls Sara out of the way of a passing masked man, bringing their bodies to rest against each other. Finding his eyes locked on hers, closer than ever before, Uren barely contains a sudden urge to press his lips forward.
“You didn’t drag me or force me to anything, Sara. I was glad to follow you. This place is awesome.”
Sara’s racing heartbeat is obvious against his chest, and Uren suspects the same might be true for her. Still, there’s something in the wide look of her eyes, even as they’re sealed on his, hesitating and scared, which makes Uren chain in his impulses rather than give them free rein.
“Though I’m starting to suspect we are indeed lost.”
Sara steps back, looking confused for a moment before a frown takes over her expression. “You do know the System has a GPS, right? Nobody is ever lost inside Elysium.”
Was she disappointed? Should he have kissed her despite her hesitation?
Sara clears her throat, pointing down a small set of stairs right next to them which Uren didn’t bother to notice until now. “Look, that’s Yndroranth, isn’t it? I can’t believe they already have it on display.”
“Is this it? Why is there an FG boss on the door?”
“You should be proud, you were the first one to find it, right? Though you used it to kill me. Should I feel proud?”
Sara descends the small set of stairs as she speaks, seemingly with newfound confidence, as though their almost-kiss never happened.
Too late to run away now.
Smiling, Sara nods toward the soft-lit corridor leading inside, and Uren doesn’t hesitate to follow after her.
***
Inner City, Center
“Would you stop? You look perfect.”
Seijuro scowls at Kuro, though she does lower her traitorous hand, holding it firmly against her lap. He’s right in that she’ll end up ruining her hair.
“We’re late. Can’t you drive faster?!”
“It’s rush hour downtown. That’s why I said to leave earlier.”
He did come up to call her. Though knowing she took too long to dress, again, does nothing to improve Seijuro’s humor. If this keeps up, she’ll have to hire somebody, despite her distaste for the idea.
Having somebody dress her up. Like a child. Pathetic.
“They should know to get the fuck out of my way.”
“They do. It’s the only reason we’re moving at all.”
This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.
“Slowpokes.”
“What was that?”
“You have my permission to run over anybody who doesn’t move out of the way fast enough. Make it hurt.”
Kuro laughs. “As much as I’d enjoy running this baby over a kid or two, I don’t think that’ll be necessary. Look.”
Seijuro glues her temple against the window, immediately spotting the giant monster of blue metal and glass she grew to love as a child, about a block and a half away. Had she been paying attention, she’d have recognized some of the landmarks nearby. Alas, at the speed they’re going…
“Enough, I’m walking.”
“Seiju-”
Before Kuro is able to finish his sentence, Seijuro feels the night breeze against her face as the closing door cuts off his voice.
“Princess!”
“Miss Aston!”
“Miss Aston, please, a picture!”
Seijuro smiles gently though her steps do not slow down. Needless to say, no one dares to stand in her way. Not like Beatrice did, crazy girl.
Even through her bubble of admirers, Seijuro appreciates the city night. It’s lively in a way she hadn’t noticed from inside the car, buzzing with life in a way her own existence is so rarely permitted to experience.
If she was just anybody…
She’d keep walking, visit different places, become Incognito after midnight…
She wouldn’t mind the rain… And nobody would pay attention to her… If she’s proper or not.
If she was just anybody…
“Attention!”
Seijuro pauses, sighing in annoyance as the group of Guards surrounds her position, a wave of black moving in perfect synchrony to keep away the mob of assailants they must imagine she was about to face.
“For all the Gods, Maria,” Seijuro murmurs, glaring down at the woman kneeling in front of her. “Was there really a need for this? You could’ve watched me from the restaurant’s door.”
Maria raises as she meets the princess’s eyes, her expression as respectful as it is distant and guarded. Lines of age have begun to appear near her eyes since Seijuro’s childhood, but little else has changed about the woman’s steel-like demeanor and brown skin.
She smiles. “Escorting Your Highness is a pleasure and an honor. Please.”
Maria gestures and her Guard falls in place as if they were born for it. Kuro must be shedding tears over the scene, Seijuro is sure of it. She’ll never hear the end of it.
“We’re ready to move, Your Highness needs just say the word.”
Seijuro doesn’t bother to answer. One of her first learned lessons in life was that acting as if her Guards don’t exist is usually to both of their benefits. As such, she resumes her measured walk toward the restaurant as if it was never interrupted in the first place, ignoring her unwanted tail of bodyguards.
Needless to say, her entrance causes heads to turn, though Seijuro takes solace in the background ocean-themed music, which remains unchanged. She is surprised to notice little has changed about the place since the last time she visited.
The bar remains as full as ever of people waiting for an opening in the actual restaurant. Blue light dances throughout the large, dimly lit lobby, converging over the reception at the center of it, and the giant, round tank of water behind it.
Well… The shark is new. How do they manage to keep it from eating everything else in the tank?
Seijuro’s high heels clap against the floor as she walks toward the reception and its many hovering holographic menus. Unlike she’d have done as a child, she contains her urge to stare up into the circular hole cutting through the middle of the sky-high building as it follows the tank of water through its journey toward the top.
“Good evening, Miss Aston.”
A receptionist raises and curtsies, beaming at Seijuro as she approaches, while the others merely bow their heads. Annoyed as she is, Seijuro briefly considers demanding for the rest of them to rise and bow properly, if only to see the shocked look on their faces as they rush to obey.
“Good evening,” she says instead, returning the woman’s smile with a polity upturn of her lips.
“Mr. Aston has been waiting for Miss Aston’s arrival. I do believe the food has already been served. Shall I have one of our bots guide Miss Aston to her table?”
“It’d be much appreciated, thank you.”
The receptionist nods, still smiling, as she gestures for one of the many fish-like robots “swimming” next to the lobby’s ceiling to approach, which it does after turning off its internal show of deep blue lights.
“I’ll have the others wait by the door,” Maria announces.
Clearly, it wasn’t a request. Seijuro even doubts her father came through the front door in the first place, considering the restaurant has another entry at its top, but she supposes the Guard feels much better if they’re able to secure the whole building.
“Do as you must.”
“Thank you.”
“You don’t have to accompany me.”
“I insist.”
Of course you do.
After one last exchange of polity nods with the receptionists, Seijuro follows her new guide toward one of the round glass platforms surrounding the restaurant’s aquarium, ignoring the Guard as they leave, as well as the many looks her presence attracts.
Now, if only she manages to-
“Seijuro…? See! I told you it was her!”
By all the Gods above and below.
“What a pleasant surprise! And here, of all places!”
Seijuro tries not to grimace as she watches the middle-aged woman ditching her own platform, half filled with people, to walk in her direction while dragging a visibly reluctant friend at her heels.
“Minister Hollins, what a pleasant surprise indeed,” Seijuro forces herself to say, barely managing a half smile.
“Oh my, where are my manners!? This is Mrs. Morris, a dear friend of mine who moved in recently. Please forgive her lack of familiarity with our customs and language.”
Hollins curtsies almost as if in an afterthought, while Mrs. Morris, tall, fair-skinned, of light blond hair and icy blue eyes, is clearly uncomfortable with the practice, struggling to perform the deferring movement with the grace Seijuro has grown used to from her countrywoman.
“Pleasured to make acquaintances, Your Highness.”
Morris, huh? The resemblance is striking.
Seijuro formally returns the woman’s curtsy. “Please, the pleasure is mine. How’s Aden been doing? I’m afraid my duties kept me from maintaining contact over vacation.”
Surprise flashes through the tall woman’s expression for a brief moment. “My Aden is well. How does… But of course, you frequent the same school. He’s never mentioned…”
Morris’s voice trails off as she gives Hollins an uncertain glance.
“Aden is a very accomplished young man. It isn’t strange they know each other, my dear,” Hollins reassures, patting the taller woman’s arm. “On another note, Seijuro! I was hoping so much to meet our young princess at Irwin’s last opening party. Their new AI-focused section had us served by their new robots! It was extraordinary!”
“In that case, I’m regretful of my absence. However, as much as I’d like to spend more time together…”
“Of course, of course… I know when to take a hint! You don’t mind if we ride together, I hope?”
***
Regret and Victory
‘So, what is this place, exactly?’
‘You’ll see! Have some patience!’
The corridor they walk through is silent, punctuated by holographic displays Uren recognizes from the game.
Moving, holographic displays.
‘Cool, right?’
‘I don’t recognize some of them. Are they really all from FG?’
‘I guess you’re not as much of a nerd as I am. Go on, tell me which ones you don’t know about.’
Uren points toward a red-wearing witch flying his broom next to the corridor’s ceiling who stares down menacingly as they walk by him, red eyes following their progress with unconcealed rage.
‘Annoying fucking bitch. Had me killed once.’
‘That tells me nothing about it, Sara.’
‘What? Of course it does.’
Uren throws her a look, unsurprisingly receiving a playful middle finger in response.
‘I don’t remember it, all right?! It was an event about something. The game has had thousands of them.’
‘What about that one?’
The furred, black creature scurries across the floor throughout the corridor, so fast Uren is barely able to see it before it disappears in between some of the other, larger monsters on display.
‘That’s I.’
‘You?’
‘No, dumbass, the thing’s name is I. You were supposed to keep it alive during an escort event… Founder’s Day, or something like that. The rewards were nice, at least.’
“Escort event…” Uren groans out loud, “Glad I missed it.”
“I know, right!? What were they thinking?!”
Sara suddenly points at a large ogre suited in black armor.
‘You remember that, right?!’
‘Kig? Of course I remember Kig. Didn’t it wipe a team of pros on release?’
‘They nerfed it in less than an hour after that. Tsk. Most people never got a chance to fight the real Kig, poor thing.’
‘Poor Kig.’
Uren’s gaze meets Sara’s, and they both end up laughing out loud for several seconds.
“Okay, here we are. What do you think?”
Sara stops at the corridor’s end, right before a small staircase leading right and down, to point over the railing. Conversation and clattering drift happily over the well-illuminated place, and Uren has a good idea about what he is going to find once he looks down, though the vision still surprises him.
‘I used to come here a lot with our team from school. Honestly? I’m kinda glad they aren’t here today. I wouldn’t know what to say.’
Sara rests her forearms over the rail, staring across tables of eating teenagers and holographic characters as though seeing a completely different view.
‘You’re not on the team anymore?’
‘I quit last year. And applied again today.’
‘And you’re afraid they’re going to refuse you?’
‘They should refuse me. You don’t ditch your friends when they need you like that. They should laugh in my face for coming back crawling.’
Uren laughs in spite of himself, earning a fuming glare from Sara for his troubles.
“I’m sorry, it’s just… You’re always so dramatic about everything. I doubt your friends will laugh at you, Sara.”
“Shut up. You don’t know Zach.”
Zach?
“Okay, so maybe some of them will… You’re scared they’re going to reject you. That’s normal. Everybody feels like that.”
“That doesn’t make me feel better.”
“I know.”
Uren extends his arms, sustaining her gaze with only a hint of a smile lingering on his expression. ‘Hug?’
Sara blinks.
‘Are you fucking with me right now?’
“Dead serious. Please don’t leave me hanging in front of everybody?”
Mortified looking, Sara takes a quick once over throughout the filled place as she steps in Uren’s direction, wraps her arms around him, then immediately steps back.
Seeing her burning cheeks, Uren rolls his eyes.
‘You call that a hug? Who’s the scared cat now?’
‘I wish I was dead. Life was a mistake.’
‘You drama queen, nobody is even looking! C’mon!’
A step, a shy look, and Sara finally allows herself to be held by Uren, who sighs as he wraps his arms around her.
Surprising absolutely no one, cheering immediately erupts from the crowd of teens. Uren can’t even imagine their reaction if he had kissed her instead.
‘I hate you.’
‘Your shampoo smells nice.’
‘Creep.’